


Tell me what you want to hear

by schwiftybusiness



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: (Talk that is), Aliens Made Them Do It, Confessions, Confessions are made when Morty is underage but nothing happens until Mort Mort is 20, In which conversations are had, Incest, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Reader Beware, Still be careful if this stuff is an issue for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 14:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwiftybusiness/pseuds/schwiftybusiness
Summary: There are some things even Rick can't see coming.When Rick and Morty are trapped in an alien prison, they have to confess a secret to escape. Morty would literally rather die. What could he possibly have to hide that would shock Rick, of all people?Then, on Morty's 20th birthday, they deal with the fallout.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow sinners. This is my first contribution to this lovely fandom. Just in case you got this far without reading the tags: This story is about consensual incest between Rick and Morty. Morty is sixteen in the first chapter, and 20 in the second chapter. This story is fantasy and is in no one condoning real world incest or underage sex. Don't like, don't read, and everyone else enjoy.

There are some things even Rick can’t see coming.

It should have been a simple trip, a little errand on an out of the way planet he’d visited plenty of times. A softball adventure so Morty would stop whining about that close call on Maynax 5. Not a thing out of place, until the trap was sprung.

“Shit,” Rick had time to groan, before a telltale gold energy obscured his vision, the walls around them dissolving and reforming into a perfectly smooth, white room. With no exit. “Fuck. Shitfuck.”

“U-umm, R-rick?” Morty stuttered from somewhere to his left as his vision slowly cleared.

“Goddammit.” He added for good measure.

“Rick! W-what’s going on?”

Still muttering curses, Rick pulled his flask from his lab coat and took a long drag, gesturing vaguely for Morty to wait a second.

“Dammit, Rick,” Morty exploded. “Where-where are we? What happened?”

Vision finally clear, Rick glanced over at the glowing energy net that spanned from floor to ceiling, dividing the space cleanly in half. Then, through it, to where Morty was predictably separated from Rick, pacing uneasily on the other side of the room. The last thing he needed was for the kid to start panicking.

“Jesus, calm-calm down, Morty. I know where we are.” Rick slunk over to the wall opposite the net as he talked, sweeping his fingers over the unnatural smooth surface, searching. “It’s a special kind of alien prison, Morty. You wouldn’t usually see one out in the middle of nowhere like this, but these Greebles and I have had a few run-ins o-over the years.”

Rick scoffed to himself, focused on his search. “They’ve just been itching to get me in one of these. Must’ve figured I’d go back to my usual fleeb supplier eventually.”

That answer didn’t do anything to stem the swelling Morty-panic, if the pathetic noise he made was any indication.

“A-a-a prison? How do we escape?”

Rick made a little noise of triumph as his fingers found a crack, wedging it open to reveal a blinking control panel. Pulling a tool from a random pocket of his coat, he got to work tearing into the guts of the machinery, answering absently over his shoulder.

“Well, see Morty, the Greebles don’t actually want us stuck here. There’s a r-real easy way to get out. You just gotta, gotta share a secret.”

“A secret?” If anything, Morty sounded even more panicked.

“A deeeep, dark secret, Morty,” Rick sing-songed. “These sick empathic fu-freaks feed off the experiences of other lifeforms, and this is one of their favorites.”

Rick whirled around to shout at the room at large. “And, of course, the whole thing is automated and r-recorded. Because the Greebles are _cowards_ who won’t, you know, get their rocks off in person.”

He finished off with a middle finger to the invisible cameras for good measure, then turned back to his work.

Morty was quiet for a moment. “So, we just have to-to, what? Tell each other a-a secret, and we can go?”

“No, Morty,” Rick cut in, “we don’t have to do _anything,_ because we’re n-not playing their stupid game. I’ll get us out another way.”

With that, Rick tuned out whatever nervous drivel Morty inevitably responded with and focused on the alien electronics he needed to circumvent. The system was more complex than he’d given them credit for, and he could already see several failsafes that would slow him down. He could get it to do what he wanted, obviously, but it was going to be slow and frustrating. A pain in the ass.

He had a few more moments of silence, punctuated only by Morty’s pacing, before the kid spoke up again.

“Rick, I-I-I’ve been thinking-”

“Well, don’t,” Rick interrupted sharply. “Whatever you think you’re thinking is just the Greeble’s fucking with you. They’re already inside your head, rifling through your-your thoughts. They’ve picked out whatever secret they think is the juiciest, the-the one that’ll open the door, and they’ve put it front and center in your head to make you confess.”

Morty groaned dramatically. “Aw, geez.”

“Yeah, so just keep your predictable little teenage angst to yourself, and you won’t have to be scarred for life by hearing mine.”

Rick stuck his hands back into the panel and was completely absorbed in his work for some time, before he was jolted back to reality by a loud thump. On the other side of the divide, Morty was slumped on his knees clutching his chest, face pale and sweaty.

“Uh, R-rick? I don’t feel too-too good,” he forced out shakily.

“Y-yeah, Morty, that-that’s their brain fuckery at work,” Rick explained, disinterested. “They make it feel real good to confess your secret, and if you don’t, they make it really suck to resist. With enough time, it’ll, you know, fry your brain completely.”

“F-f-fry my brain!?” Morty croaked out, outrage temporarily eclipsing fear in his voice. “What the hell Rick!”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately we’re not gonna be here long enough to see that.” Rick picked up speed, hands flying over wires and buttons. “Just keep your shit together for a few more minutes, and I’ll have us out of here.”

“O-okay, Rick.” Morty’s voice was soft, his face screwed up in concentration as he tried to breath steady.

Rick scoffed, but he could feel the pressure start to build behind his own brow, could feel the tremors in his fingers. They were on a deadline.

He turned back to his task with a savage focus, ripping out wires and rerouting power. Inelegant, but functional. All the while, he ignored the persistent fluttering of unwanted thoughts just at the edge of his mind. The Greebles might be galactically feared empaths, but they stood no chance against Rick’s carefully honed talent for avoiding shit he didn’t want to deal with.

Morty on the other hand …

“Ugh, Morty, of-of course you’d be hyper-sensitive to some random alien brain torture.”

Morty shot him a glare from where he was still doubled over on his knees, breathing fast. “Can’t exactly con-control it, Rick.”

“You’re not r-really making this easy here, Morty.” It really would be a lot easier just to tell their secrets at this point. Honestly, how bad could it — No.

Rick shook his head violently. No way was he letting them get to him. Ignoring the increasing pressure in his temples, he ripped another wire from the wall.

The sterile white lights flickered briefly, but then steadied. Yet another failsafe system. They were leading him in circles.

Morty failed to smother a groan of pain, and when Rick looked back at him his face was blotchy, sickly white and flushed red. Shit.

“Come on fuckers, ignore the kid!” He yelled up at the ceiling, still wrist-deep in softly blinking alien technology. “You know he doesn’t have anything juicy enough to catch your interest in there.”

Irrational. He knew no one was at the controls.

Dammit.

He had to call Morty’s name twice to get his attention, and even then his voice was sluggish when he responded. “Y-yeah, Rick?”

Rick surprised himself with the gentleness in his voice. “Alright, Morty, lay it on me.”

“W-what?”

“Your secret,” Rick demanded flatly. “The one they’ve been making you think about since you got here. If you tell me, it-it might delay the brain-melting process long enough for me to finish breaking out of here and blowing their fancy prison to hell.”

He may have started gently, but he injected just enough bored disdain into his command to let Morty know nothing he said actually mattered. “So spill your d-deep, dark, oh-so-fascinating adolescent secret already.”

Morty’s answer was strained, but unmistakeable. “No.”

“What-what do you mean, no?” Rick sputtered. “Do you think I give a shit about your fetish for Jessica’s feet or th-that one time you had a wet dream in class or whatever shit happens in your pathetic teenage life? Just tell me already so I can focus on what actually matters here.”

“No. I … just, _no,_ Rick.” Morty was looking at him now, that annoyingly stubborn look in his eyes despite his shaking.

“Jesus, Morty, you do realize you’re actually dying, right?” Rick ripped another wire from the wall with unnecessary force, but his attention was firmly split. “And that it is literally impossible for you to shock me. I’ve seen shit you could never in your life e-even imagine. Hell, I’ve done most of it. What the hell could y-you possibly be so, so ashamed of?”

Morty’s next refusal was interrupted by a wet, wracking cough that sprinkled the white floor with bright red blood.

They were out of time.

“Dammit Morty!” Rick snarled, throwing his tool across the room with an unsatisfying clatter. He would have to tell his secret first. Whatever Morty was protecting would pale in comparison to his sick shit, and the little bastard would finally cough it up so they could leave.

Wait, shit, was this his plan or the Greebles getting to him? Was he seriously even considering actually saying this shit out loud?

Fuck it. Morty wasn’t dying here. Not because of him, and definitely not over _this._

“Fine, Morty. Fine,” he growled, throwing up his hands and stalking over to glare down at Morty through the net. “I-I’ll trade you. A secret for a secret.”

“Rick—” Morty protested weakly from where he slumped against the floor.

“Just shut up and listen so we can get out of here.” Rick took a deep, steadying breath, mind working in overdrive to come up with a Plan C. But he could already feel the words crawling up his throat, pushed by an outside force. They whispered of relief and truth and the comfort of a confessional. Hadn’t he held it in long enough?

“I … think about you,” Rick finally grit out, tasting copper on his tongue. He could swear he saw the lights brighten reprovingly. He thought again about making a last-ditch effort to just blow a hole in the walls of their cage, but Morty was staring at him, and his blood was a harsh warning sign on the sterile white floor.

“In a way that you shouldn’t think about your grandson,” he added bitterly.

Maybe if he left it vague, he could pass it off to Morty as having violent impulses toward him or something. This was Morty after all — he’d believe whatever Rick said as long as he was careful and sold it hard enough. And it was better than the truth.

A moment passed, but the net between them held steady and no door appeared. It wasn’t enough. Fucking Greebles.

Rick slammed his fist into the buzzing net between them, energy crackling around him. He wrapped his fingers through the netting for support as his head fell forward, words lodged thickly in his throat.

If he was really going to do this, to dump this shit on the poor kid and break things (he was so good at breaking things), he should at least look him in the face while he did it. _Pathetic._

With bile in his throat, he dredged up the words. “Fine, you sick f-fuckers, you want to hear the whole truth? All the, the sordid little details, huh? You-you got it. I want to fuck my grandson.”

The brief vacuum of silence after those words was almost enough to do what decades of violence and bullshit hadn’t managed, to get him to surrender, but he continued with a defiant sneer. “All the options in the multiverse — and I’ve sampled a _lot_ of them — and I’m stuck on this damn kid. Can’t stop thinking about him.”

In for a penny, in for the whole fucking perverted pound.

“And it’s not just some damn fetish, not just one more messed up thing Rick Sanchez is into. God knows I can deal with those. This is — he … matters.”

That should be more than enough. Too much already. But it felt so good to finally say it out loud, to claw it out of his chest where it had festered, that he felt his mouth moving again without his permission. The words came easier, a heavy unavoidable flood, like heaving vomit or gushing blood.

“I want to kiss that stupid optimistic smile off his face. I want to show him how good he can feel. I want to … keep him. I want to keep him with me and show him the universe and-and share things with him. I lov—”

Rick’s fist slammed into the net again, hard enough to send a few drops of blood scattering with the sparks.

“Goddammit, enough.” He snarled, breathing fast and fierce.

They were silent, still. The tension hung chokingly thick, the hum of the energy wall smotheringly loud. Rick was out of words.

Distantly, he heard Morty struggle to his feet, heard his sharp breathing, but he didn’t lift his head.

“Rick, you idiot!” Morty rasped. Then, quieter. “Me too.”

In an instant, the net between them disappeared. Rick dropped his hand. A door opened behind Morty with a sickly cheerful beep, and they were free.

***

“Rick?” Morty asked softly. Rick didn’t react. It wasn’t until he took a step forward that Rick snapped into motion, face terrifyingly cold as he looked up and strode past Morty.

“We’re out of here, come on,” he called over his shoulder, voice emotionless, impatient. He didn’t stop to wait.

Morty swayed on the spot, not entirely sure any of this was actually happening. He felt nothing for a long moment, but his numbness was shattered by a sudden, absolute surety that Rick was going to leave. Maybe not leave him here on this planet, but _leave._ Their house, their planet, their lives. For good.

Heart in his throat and adrenaline kicking in, Morty chased after Rick’s retreating form. At a run, he made it to the ship just a few seconds after Rick did. But for all of Rick’s hurry, he was doing nothing but sitting behind the wheel and staring into the middle distance.

Morty was careful as he opened the door and slid into his seat. He let the silence stretch. Rick’s face was unreadable; he felt light-years away.

Eventually, Morty couldn’t stand the stillness. “So what happens now?”

“Nothing,” Rick answered immediately, voice rusty and a little too loud. “Nothing happens now. We go back to our lives, and we never talk about this again.”

“You-you can do that? Just pretend it never happened?” Morty asked, voice small.

Rick’s attempt at a smirk fell entirely flat. “It’s kinda my specialty.”

“Well, I can’t.” Morty knew he was pushing his luck, but he also knew Rick has one foot out the door, and he couldn't see any way through this but _through._

“What do you think is gonna happen here, Morty? We confess our undying love for each other and ride off into the sunset holding hands?” Rick’s snort was caustic as he fished another flask out of the seat and took a long drag. “Cause you picked the wrong person for that.”

Morty bit his lip. Now or never. “I-I’m not expecting some, some chick flick ending, Rick. I know this whole thing is a little screwed up, but if we both want it, what’s the problem?”

Rick’s laugh was an angry, strangled thing. “Where do I even start? How about the fact that you’re 16. You don’t even know what you want.”

“Oh-oh, screw you Rick,” Morty spat back, fists curling indignantly in his lap. “Everything we’ve done, all the weird shit I’ve seen. What kind of 16-year-old has decided the fate of their entire planet or fought the intergalactic government or-or eaten breakfast a few feet from their own grave!?”

“And you-you think that makes you qualified to decide you want to hook up with an old man who just happens to be, you know, your grandfather?”

It was Morty’s turn to laugh. “I know what grandfathers are, Rick. Grandfathers are family visits and awkward hugs and embarrassing questions and-and boring conversations. They’re a-a reliable face at the dinner table. You’re sure as hell not that, and you never will be.”

“That doesn’t stop this from being all kinds of _wrong_ , Morty.” Rick’s eyes closed briefly, his brow furrowed. “I’ve done my share of fucked up shit, Morty, but this takes the entire shit cake. This is a whole different kind of sick.”

“I thought right and wrong were just constructs created to control our behavior? Since when have you cared about rules?” Morty let his voice turn haughty. “That’s a very p-planetary mindset for you.”

Rick went from tense to furious like a switch flipped. “You think you’re clever, huh, you little shit? Do you have any idea what this will do to you? You’ll never have a normal life.”

“That went out the window the day you knocked on our door, Rick! If you hadn’t notice, life isn’t exactly normal around here. And you-your’re the one who showed me that normal life is fucking boring!”

“Don’t you get it?” Rick seethed, his eyes flat and his face dark. He launched himself up to loom over Morty, pressing his wrists into the armrests and gripping hard enough to grind the bones together. “This will be bad for you. I’ll chew you up and spit you out. I’m a selfish bastard, and you aren’t going to change that. I won’t be happy with whatever it is you're offering. I’ll want _everything_ from you, and I-I’ll take it, and I won’t promise you _shit_ in return. I mean, fuck, there’s no way this ends except for with one o-or both of us, dead.”

Morty blinked up at him, eyes wide, and though his voice shook, he was all quiet defiance. Surety. “Y-you think I don’t know you after all this time? You’re not going to scare me off.”

Rick deflated, danger draining from him as quickly as it had come. He pulled himself away, dropping back into his own seat with a tired sigh and closed eyes.

His voice was quiet. “I just can’t.”

It was a moment before Morty spoke, but when he did it was simple, gentle. “Okay.”

“What?”

“Okay,” Morty repeated with a shrug. “I-I mean, you said no. That should be enough of-of an answer.”

Rick stared, the closest to gobsmacked Morty had ever seen him. Then he straightened and nodded, once, decisive.

“Good,” he said, a note in his voice like he’d avoided an execution. “You’ll get over this and move on to some busty high school girl in no time, you’ll see.”

Morty shook his head, smiling softly out the window. “I said I’d drop it, Rick, and I mean it. I won’t mention it again. But you should know, I’m not gonna move on from this. This isn’t going to change, Rick.”

Rick snorted, like he knew better, but he let Morty have the last word.

“Okay.” Rick paused for a long breath, hands back on the steering wheel. “Okay. Let’s just … promise never to talk about this again, and things will be fine.”

“O-only if you promise you’re not going to leave again,” Morty demanded. “Not o-over this.”

Rick shrugged, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “You’re s-stuck with me now, Morty.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rick didn’t leave. And, to both of their surprise, things went back to normal.

It took Rick a week to call on Morty for another adventure, and Morty spent every day of that week sure he was going to wake up and Rick would be gone. But at the end of the week, Rick strolled into the living room like absolutely nothing had changed and rambled off about some planet they needed to visit for a very important something-or-other. Morty was so relieved that he would have agreed to literally any dangerous bullshit Rick had come up with.

It was awkward at first. Of course it was. But they kept doing things like they’d always done, studiously talked about nothing serious, and eventually inertia took over. After all, they were Rick and Morty. They went on adventures, hid the really dangerous stuff from the family, generally wrecked havoc across the multiverse, and always made it home for breakfast.

Still, after a while it become clear that something had shifted. Maybe it was the limits of their denial, maybe it was a new carefulness, maybe it was just that Rick couldn’t deny that Morty mattered to him anymore. It didn’t make him nicer, exactly, but he stopped putting so much energy into reminding Morty how little he cared — about him or anything. He stopped feeling the compulsive need to push him away just to prove he could.

And as time went on, Rick started trusting him more. Morty proved his competence time and time again. He saved their asses and cleaned up after Rick and pushed back against Rick’s shit just enough to make space for himself. He kept his promise not to talk about it. Rick would probably never admit it, but they had become more like partners.

Rick was still an asshole. He still drank too much and risked their lives without a thought and left destruction in his wake. But he also told Morty when he did a good job and let himself admit how much he enjoyed their adventures and even listened to Morty when he tried to limit the fallout.

The years passed in adventures successful and terrifying. Somehow, they both made it to Morty’s 20th birthday in one piece.

Morty had deferred college for a while in favor of continuing his adventures with Rick, which Jerry complained about constantly and Beth had accepted with obvious glee. It didn’t really matter to Morty, as he and Rick spent most of their time out wandering the galaxy these days.

But it was Morty’s birthday, and Beth had made a big deal about the family spending time together. She made a huge breakfast for everyone, and then they spent the better part of the day watching interdimensional cable and providing a running commentary about the weirdest shows they could find. It was nice. Even Rick seemed to be having a good time (he only insulted Jerry three times and didn’t even make it through the first flask).

As the day was winding down, Beth announced she was satisfied that they’d had a healthy amount of “normal family time,” and they all scattered to their own activities. Rick slouched off to the garage to tinker with his experiments, and Morty found himself drawn there not long after, like always.

As soon as Morty stepped into the garage, a newspaper-wrapped package flew at his chest with no preamble.

“Happy birthday,” Rick called belatedly, still leaning over his work table poking at something.

Morty, caught between ducking and shielding himself, almost fumbled it. He’d grown into his new height and broader shoulders years ago, but he was beginning to think he would always be clumsy. Still, he managed to catch the package just before it crashed to the ground. Ignoring Rick’s amused snort, Morty tore into the paper eagerly, gaping when he saw what it contained.

“Y-your portal gun?”

“Nope,” Rick corrected with a casual shrug. “ _Your_ portal gun. Whipped you up a copy last night. Figured you’d proved you’re not completely useless, so maybe you’d earned it or whatever.”

Morty could almost feel the stars in his eyes as he clutched the portal gun to his chest. “W-wow, Rick. I don’t know what to — I mean, thank you! It’s, wow.”

Rick waved him off lazily, barely glancing up from his work. “Yeah, yeah. Now you won’t have to come running to me for every little thing,” he drawled. “Maybe you can really start pulling your weight around here and doing things on your own.”

If it had been anyone else, they would have bought it. Even to Morty, it was a convincing act. But Rick has never made it easy to know him, and in the six years he had been running after him, Morty had become fluent in reading the little signs. He could see the tension in his shoulders, the carefully constructed apathy, the forced casualness.

Rick was building up a wall. And he only worked so hard to put distance between them when he was trying to protect himself from something. He’d punch him for even thinking it, but Morty knew: Rick was afraid.

Of what? Of Morty having independence maybe. It would be so like Rick to react to his fear of losing Morty by giving him the tools to leave and practically pushing him out the door. Give him a free ticket right out of his life so it won’t be a surprise. Emotionally constipated fucker.

Morty had to play this right. He paced a little to the side of Rick’s work table, just enough to be sure he was in his peripheral vision. “Yeah, I guess I can start doing some adventures on my own,” he rambled excitedly, eyes on his gift. “You won’t have to chaperone me all the time.”

Rick grunted in agreement, but he hunched further over the work he was most definitely only poking at. “I mean, it’ll be a relief, right? You can do more stuff without me tagging along all the time, and you can send me out for things so you can focus on your work!”

Rick’s shoulders did a terrible job hiding their tension, and he practically growled out a, “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Morty finally laughed, letting his voice fall from innocent excitement to flat sarcasm. “Yeah right, Rick.”

He noticed Rick glance over at him, but kept idly pacing, waving his new portal gun a bit like a toy gun.

“I love the gun, Rick,” he said, risking a softer voice. “And I’m really excited to be able to help out more. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to go off on my own.”

“I mean, you wish, right?” Morty continued, casual and teasing again. “Someone needs to look after you and keep you from destroying the whole damn galaxy, old man.”

He added an eye roll for good measure, and when he spun around to pace back toward the table, Rick was watching him, shoulders relaxed.

“Yeah, whatever, Morty.” But there was a grin on his face Rick couldn’t cover, and he picked up his own portal gun eagerly. “If I’m gonna be stuck with you, let’s at least make it useful. I’ve got a really interesting dimension we could check out. What do you say to a little birthday adventure?”

Morty paused, thinking again of the half-formed plan he’d been building for months. Could he really do it? Could he live with himself if he didn’t?

He had no idea what he was doing. But Rick himself had taught him long ago that sometimes you just have to not give a fuck.

“Actually, since it’s my birthday and all,” Morty said, letting his voice drop low, “I thought I could suggest something else fun we could do.”

Rick scoffed, but leaned back against the table with a raised brow. “I just gave you a present, didn’t I? Was-was the ability to travel between dimensions not enough for you?”

“I-It’s great, Rick. But there’s something else I want.” Morty stepped into his space, grinning with a confidence he mostly felt. “Something I’ve wanted for a long time now.”

Rick’s arms were crossed and his expression unreadable as he stared Morty down, but he didn’t play dumb. “I-I thought we weren’t ever talking about this again, Morty?”

Morty shrugged, devil may care, a move he stole straight from Rick’s playbook. “I just want you to know that I was right. It never went away. I’m n-not getting over this, Rick.”

“Nothing’s changed, Morty,” Rick dismissed him flatly.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Rick.” Morty spread his hands between them, voice level and honest. “Maybe I didn’t know what I-I was asking for back then, but I do now. I’ve dated. I’ve followed you all around the galaxy for six years. I know what I want. Our lives will never be n-normal, but after all this time, I think it’s pretty clear I’ll never be over this either.”

Morty had almost caught up to Rick in the height department, and he used that new advantage to lean closer, crowding Rick into the corner where the counters met.

“And I’m pretty sure i-it’s the same for you,” he continued.

Morty eyed Rick up and down with a hungry grin, but didn’t move to touch, just stood in his space and asked, “So what do you say?”

Rick’s sigh was explosive. “Dammit, Morty, I knew you’d end up screwed up.”

“Takes one to know one, old man.”

Rick rolled his eyes but mumbled, face serious, “This’ll kill Beth.”

“We’re both pretty good at keeping secrets, Rick. No one has to find out,” Morty assured him earnestly, sparing a shudder for the thought of anyone discovering them. “And d-don’t tell me you don’t have back up plans and contingencies to deal with that kind of thing anyway.”

Rick was quiet, his breath uneven, just leaning against the counter and staring at Morty with hard eyes. Morty had no idea if he’d made any progress. Then, something softened. “I’m n-not going to keep saying no.”

“Then don’t.”

Morty leaned in enough to put his hands on the counter to either side of Rick, boxing him in. He thrilled a little when Rick uncrossed his arms and didn’t push him away. He swayed closer, eyes locked with Rick’s, breath caught in his throat as his mind raced between _finally_ and _we’re really doing this_ and _can I actually do this?_

Morty was sure his nerves showed all over his face, but Rick wasn’t exactly his usual arrogant self either, and it was that hint of vulnerability in Rick’s eyes that gave Morty the courage to press their lips together.

It was short, chaste, just a soft brush of lips that spanned a breath or two. But it was enough to shift the entire multiverse. Enough to make Morty pull back, breathless and dizzy like he’d just made a narrow escape from a whole fleet of pissed off aliens.

And Rick was just staring at him, unreadable, as he tried to find his breath and his balance. Tried to remember what planet he was on.

“Fine,” Rick rasped, defeated, before he finally, _finally_ made his move.

Strong fingers gripped at Morty’s hips, sliding slowly up under the hem of the yellow shirt he still wore everywhere, pulling him flush against Rick. He gasped in a breath, arms wrapping instinctively around Rick’s neck as he leaned against him. Rick hummed appreciatively as he leaned in, dropping another soft kiss to Morty’s lips that one or both of them quickly turned filthy.

When they pulled away again, Morty felt his flush all the way down to his toes, sluggishly blinking at Rick’s slick, kiss-darkened lips.

“Rick and Morty forever and ever, right?” He breathed, leaving a trail of kisses along the side of Rick’s jaw. “You owe me 94 more years.”

Rick’s smirk was typical, but his voice was soft as he pulled him closer. “You got it, Morty.”


End file.
